


That Same Old Witchcraft

by blackkat



Series: under that old black magic called love [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/M, Found Families, Friendship, Humor, Kakashi needs to lay off the mocking noir detective monologues, M/M, Magic, Minato is Not Amused, Rescue Missions, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13939476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: A retired hexer PI who runs a diner, his snarky sidekick of an illegal sorcerer, a redheaded vixen who's made of trouble, and a missing persons case - what could possibly go wrong?





	That Same Old Witchcraft

“You make _terrible_ coffee,” Kakashi says, tying his apron on. “Why do you own a _diner_?”

“My coffee is not terrible,” Minato tells him, reaching out to pat the ancient machine like he’s trying to make up for Kakashi’s offence.

At the table in the corner, one of their early-morning regulars pointedly clears his throat, though he doesn’t bother to look up from him newspaper. “It really is,” he tells Minato. “I've tasted gutter-water that had more body.”

Minato huffs in offence, and Kakashi has to turn away to hide a smile, busying himself with straightening the stack of menus behind the counter. “No one’s making you drink it, Fugaku,” Minato retorts. “There's another restaurant down the street if you want a change.”

Kakashi scoops the coffee pot out of Minato's hands as he passes, then dumps the contents down the drain, ignoring Minato's sounds of protest. “Please don’t chase away one of the only people stupid enough to come here,” he says blandly.

“You're the only one not charging an arm and a leg for you terrible coffee,” Fugaku says, still entirely absorbed in his paper. Stocks, probably, Kakashi reflects. That’s the kind of person Fugaku is. “You're lucky I'm too cheap to go elsewhere, Minato.”

“You're both so rude to me,” Minato complains, shuffling a stack of ticket stubs as he looks for something. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Kakashi just hums like he has no idea either, leaning around Minato and tugging his favorite pen out from under a pile of table numbers they haven’t used in at least five years. Minato flashes him a grateful smile, and Kakashi wanders away to go fix whatever Minato has done to the coffee grinder this time, since he can never just leave it on the regular setting.

Across the room, Fugaku pushes his empty plate away, turns to the next page of his paper, and says, “It looks like you’ve got a pest problem.”

Startled, Kakashi turns, automatically glancing towards the mousetraps tucked away behind the counter. None of them have been moved, though, and he frowns a little, looking back towards the windows.

Three foxes look back, two bright red and the third pure white, with sharp eyes and sharper grins. They're not moving, just waiting, sitting on the low ledge of the window as if they're basking even though there's no hint of sun. Probably real, Kakashi thinks a bit warily, though it’s hard to be sure.

Minato looks too, but he’s smiling rather than frowning. “Well,” he says lightly, “at least this one the health inspector won't have a problem with.”

“As long as they don’t try to come in,” Kakashi drawls, eyeing the largest red fox. It eyes him right back, tongue lolling out through white teeth, paws neatly crossed, but it doesn’t move. Kakashi would be more relieved if they didn’t look like they _could_ come in, should they want to. “If they do, maybe your coffee will scare them away.”

Minato rolls his eyes. “I should dock your pay every time you make a smart comment.”

“You pay me so little it wouldn’t make much of a difference.” Kakashi ignores Minato's spluttering and collects a rag and a spray bottle, heading around the counter to wipe down the tables. Fugaku is usually the first in, but Kakashi likes to keep things clean. It’s easier that way, and it keeps him occupied.

Fugaku snorts, though at their ribbing or something in the paper Kakashi isn’t quite sure. He steals a glance as he wipes the table behind him, but it doesn’t look like Fugaku's reading the funnies, and before Kakashi can look more closely a flash of red outside draws his eye. It takes effort not to snicker as he leans forward, pretending to concentrate on a particularly stubborn stain even as he pitches his voice to carry.

“It was what folks call the dead of winter. The dirt had mixed with the ice and snow until the alleys were plastered in a crunchy, gritty brown.”

Minato groans, pressing his hands over his face. “Kakashi, _no_.”

Entirely undeterred, Kakashi beams at him. “I’d wandered my way down to the city’s worst greasy spoon,” he continues, giving the words a dramatic rasp, “and ordered a cup of joe and some eggs, when in strolls trouble—redheaded vixen with a temper to match, with shanks for miles. No dame her age could afford a necklace like that, but suckers were born for that Broadway smile—and that day, I was a sucker. She was to bad news what heat was to a muggy summer, but—”

“Kakashi,” Minato sighs, just as the bell over the door jingles. Offering the visitor a bright smile, he puts his pen down, leans forward with a laugh to take the outstretched hands and kiss the proffered cheek. “Kushina! You're a long way from the station.”

Kushina grins at him. “I’d say I'm here for the coffee, but I don’t hate my taste buds that much,” she jokes, and laughs when Minato makes a face at her. “Oh, cheer up, pretty boy. I've got a present.”

“A new employee?” Minato asks dryly, giving Kakashi a look. Kakashi snickers, unrepentant, and leans back against the table, watching as Kushina roots through her purse. She really does look like trouble; he wasn’t making that up. All long hair and killer legs and a smile that can drop a soul at twenty places, plus a right hook that’s enough to knock out a man three times her size. _And_ a badge and a hexer’s license. They don’t make them more dangerous than that.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Minato, you wouldn’t get _any_ customers without Kakashi,” Kushina says airily, not even deigning to look up when Minato pouts at her. With a sound of victory, she pulls a file from her bag, then sets it down on the counter with a flourish. “Tada!”

Minato looks at the file for a long moment, biting his lip, and Kakashi tips his head, wondering what he’s going to decide. It’s…not quite curiosity. Concern, maybe, touched with regret and a bit of tension. His chest is a little tighter than it should be, but…that’s excusable, maybe.

His skin itches, like there's lightning in his veins.

Blue eyes flicker from the file to Kakashi and then up to Kushina, and Minato takes a breath. “Kushina,” he says quietly, “I'm _retired_. You know I gave up being a PI years ago.”

“Three years,” Kushina counts without hesitation, and there's a challenge in her gaze as she leans forward, hands braced on the counter. “Minato, I wouldn’t come to you if this wasn’t important. You know that.”

Another glance up, and Minato looks at Kakashi, meets his eyes, and Kakashi doesn’t allow himself to look away, no matter how pained Minato's expression is. “I _can't_ ,” Minato tells Kushina. “I gave up my license when I quit. _And_ my magic.”

Kushina winces faintly, which is rare enough that Kakashi can feel his brows rise towards his hairline. She casts a glance around the diner, then lowers her voice and says, “Look, Minato, I _do_ know. But this isn’t official police business. Not really. And besides, when have _you_ cared about a license? This whole building is _buzzing_ with spells, pretty boy.”

Kakashi isn’t the only one who blanches. Under his tan Minato goes chalk-white and takes a step back, glancing at the door like he expects ANBU to come pouring through it and drag them away.

“Kushina—” he gets out.

Kushina gives him a tight-lipped, almost disappointed look. “ _Really_ , Minato? I'm here asking for your _help_.”

The knotted breath in Kakashi’s throat eases just slightly. He loosens his grip on his rag, forces his feet to motion, and takes several long steps up to Kushina's side. “It must be something important, then,” he says, and practice keeps it lazy even when he feels anything but.

Minato's hand curls over his shoulder, squeezing briefly, before he lets go. “That serious?” he asks Kushina quietly.

She smiles, wry and winsome, and instead of answering flips open the folder. “I need your help finding someone,” she says, tugging a photo free of its clip. “I’ll pay you triple your old rate, but I _need_ him back.”

Kakashi glances down at it before he can help himself. Probably about Kakashi’s age, so definitely still a teenager, with short dark hair and wide black eyes and a small, sweet smile. Wearing an ANBU uniform, too, and Kakashi’s eyes narrow.

“ANBU?” Minato asks, before he can, and trades glances with Kakashi. Concerned, with a wary edge to it, but then they’ve both been trying to keep their heads down for a while now. Wandering around looking for an agent of the force created specifically to track down and capture hexers doesn’t seem like a good way to keep up that trend.

“My apprentice,” Kushina says, and the tip of her chin dares them to say anything about it. “He’s a sorcerer, and a strong one. He disappeared three days ago.”

Apprehension prickles down Kakashi’s spine. Sorcerers aren’t easy to take out, even by surprise. But, if someone managed it, in all likelihood they want the boy _for_ something, and rituals that require a powerful magical sacrifice never bode well for the rest of the world.

“You're sure he’s not hungover in a ditch somewhere?” Kakashi asks dryly, though he has to swallow down the bad feeling that’s rising in his chest. It’s strangely hard to drag his eyes away from the boy’s smile, the way his fingers are splayed over the featureless helmet that all ANBU members wear.

Kushina whacks him over the head. “Obito wouldn’t!” she protests. “He’s been with me since he was five, you know! He’s not the type to just disappear.”

Since he was five? That means someone uncovered his power _early_. Kakashi managed to keep his own hidden until he met Minato, but Obito getting apprenticed to Kushina at that age means he was noticed, that he was taken from his family to be raised by a government-approved figure as soon as someone realized he had magic.

It’s _wrong_ , and Kakashi sets his teeth, tries his very hardest not to say anything. He likes Kushina, but she’s just as much a part of the system as any other ANBU agent.

Well. Maybe slightly less so than most, given that she’s here.

“His trackers aren’t working?” Minato asks, and the concern is edging into outright worry. A fingertip traces the sigil inked into the photo, and it sparks, shimmering orange-gold for a brief moment. Still alive, then, if his magic is active, Kakashi thinks, and it shouldn’t be a relief when he doesn’t even _know_ the boy, but it is.

“You think I’d be here if they were, pretty boy?” Kushina asks tartly, but the slant of her gaze is close to fear. “He was just supposed to walk home from the training hall, but he never made it back. And now I can't find him _anywhere_.” She swallows, lays a hand over Minato's, and meets his eyes with determination and desperation in equal measure. “Minato, he means _everything_ to me. Please. I haven’t had any luck, but you’re better at finding things than I am. In four days ANBU’s going to mark him as rogue if I can't at least prove he’s been kidnapped, and then they’ll kill him on sight. _Please_.”

They should say no. They should _absolutely_ say no, because it’s far too big a risk to get wrapped up with ANBU. Minato gave up his license, said he gave up his magic, and if anyone finds out he fudged the ritual that was supposed to remove it—

“All right,” Minato says, and offers Kushina a smile, turning his hand over to grip her fingers tightly. “We’ll find him, Kushina. Just leave it to us.”

“We will?” Kakashi asks dryly, and Minato shoots him an exasperated look. Kakashi raises his hands innocently, and Kushina promptly kicks him hard in the ankle. She’s wearing _heels_. With _very_ pointy toes. “Ow.”

“Serves you right,” Kushina tells him with a huff, pats Minato's wrist, and pulls her fingers from his grip. “I need to get back to the station,” she says, glancing out through the window. All but one of the foxes have vanished, and her mouth tightens faintly. “Call me if you need something blown up, you know? I’ll be waiting.”

With a swirl of red hair and the click of heels, she vanishes out the door, and Minato watches her stride down the street, fox bounding at her heels, until she turns the corner. His expression is almost painfully wistful.

“Trouble indeed,” Kakashi says, and at least Minato doesn’t try to argue. He just pushes away from the counter, tugging his apron off and dropping it on its hook by the door into the kitchen.

“Trouble that pays well,” he says cheerfully, like money is _any_ part of his reasoning in all of this. Kakashi gives him the look that deserves, and he at least has the grace to grimace a little. “It looks like that boy needs help?” he ventures instead, and then, like he can see the way Kakashi wavers at that, “Why don’t you look over the file while I turn the ovens off?”

“This is a really bad idea!” Kakashi calls after him, gets an airy wave of one hand in acknowledgement, and sighs. Since there isn’t really another choice, he tugs the file over to him, carefully shifting the picture out of the way. There's another underneath it, this one official and posed instead of the candid shot Kushina gave them first. Dress uniform, stiff and starched, and Obito looks much grimmer, something dark in his eyes as he stares at the camera. Kakashi lingers on the image for a moment, but sets that aside, too, skimming the sheet beneath. Age, height, weight, place of birth, physical skill level, and…

Where his magic should be ranked and assessed and listed down to the last skill, there's nothing but black.

Well, Kakashi thinks, staring down at it. Secrets. That’s fun.

“Sorry, Fugaku, we’re closing up,” Minato calls as he steps back into the room, and Fugaku sighs, put upon and resigned, but closes his paper, tucks it into his briefcase, and rises to his feet.

“That woman has _always_ been trouble,” he complains, dropping his plate in front of Minato. “Keep your head around her. She’s ANBU, and I’d hate to see you lose it.”

Minato's smile is warm and brilliant. “Thank you for worrying about me,” he says, catches Fugaku's wrist and squeezes it gently. “We’ll probably be back tomorrow.”

“I hope so. Where else would I go to punish myself with terrible coffee?” The severe lines of Fugaku's face soften just a bit, almost a smile, and he waves over his shoulder as he turns for the door.

The bell jangles, the door closes softly, and Minato turns to Kakashi, who eyes him warily. Those blue eyes are expectant, though, and he sighs, but offers, “Obito Uchiha, seventeen, sorcerer. He’s short.”

Minato rolls his eyes, pulls his coat off the hook, and tosses Kakashi’s own at his head. “Helpful,” he says dryly. “That was all that was in the file?”

Kakashi drops his apron on a stool, tugs his jacket on, and follows Minato out onto the street. “It was. Are we going to go wander around the ANBU training hall to see what we can find?”

Minato laughs, like that isn’t a legitimate question, and pauses. His eyes narrow for half an instant, and he passes a hand through the air. Lines of dark sigils whirl into existence, shimmer briefly as they settle across the diner’s door, and then fade back into nothingness.

When Kakashi glances back, there's a _Closed due to family emergency_ sign in the window, and the place looks like it’s been shuttered for days.

“It’s possible Kushina has a point,” he offers, raising a brow.

Minato grins. “For the first time in my life, I don’t have to account for every ounce of magic that I use,” he tells Kakashi. “I still haven’t gotten used to it, but no one is going to take it away from me again.”

Fair enough, Kakashi allows with a grimace, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat. ANBU scooped Minato up when he was a teenager, trained him, and let him back out into the world chipped and monitored and carefully weighed for threat. Before three years ago, before Kakashi stopped being able to control his own power and keep it hidden, Minato's magic was never his own. Kakashi doesn’t know what that’s like, and he never wants to, even if it means he might as well be a criminal.

“Not the ANBU training hall, then,” he says.

Minato shakes his head, starting down the street towards the closest subway. “Whoever grabbed him will have been incredibly careful given the location, _especially_ if they knew Kushina was his master. But something like that must have taken planning, and someone in the right circles probably heard about it.”

“The sorcerer-kidnapping-for-rituals circles,” Kakashi says blandly. “They're my favorite people. How did you know.”

“It’s a bigger business than you’d think,” Minato tells him. “Usually people don’t go after such visible targets, though.”

Easy enough to read between the lines there; the homeless, the hidden, the vulnerable are probably the first targets, and Kakashi was the first two just a handful of years ago. If Minato hadn’t stepped in, taken him on, helped him, he probably would have ended up dead to those people or someone else. The world isn’t kind to hexers and never has been.

Between Obito's fate as an ANBU dog, and Kakashi’s as a rogue sorcerer and therefore enemy number one, there isn’t a lot of wiggle room.

“Shady contacts time?” he asks lightly, and Minato laughs.

“Shady contacts time,” he agrees, and leads Kakashi down the slippery metal stairs just as the southbound train pulls into the station.

 

 

“That,” Kakashi says flatly, dripping sewer water all over the pavement, “was not a shady contact. That was _stupidity_.”

Minato, still slightly breathless from their flight through the tunnels to get away, makes a rueful expression, but doesn’t pause, leaving the path and heading for the edge of the park that’s mostly overgrown. “Orochimaru’s always been friendly before!” he protests, though his heart isn’t in it.

Kakashi’s feet are squishing in his shoes. He _reeks_ , and there are too many people around to risk a spell. This is a _terrible_ day, and he’s never again going to not mean it when he jokes about Kushina being trouble. “You never _turned down his advances_ before. What part of that was smart?”

“The part where I didn’t end up dating Orochimaru,” Minato retorts, though mildly. “And we got the information, didn’t we? It’s fine.”

“I hate you,” Kakashi tells him, and almost means it. “We got chased through the sewers by a _giant snake_ because you didn’t want to go to dinner with the local warlock and let him down easy.”

“At least we know where the ritual was being set up,” Minato says, like it’s any defense at all. Once the trees close behind them, he waves a hand at himself, and streaks of dark sigils curl around him, then vanish, taking the water and most of the smell with them. Kakashi mimics the gesture, and has to grimace at even the faint waft of stench that’s still remaining.

“We _might_ know,” he corrects, but doesn’t stop following Minato as the ground rises in a low hill.

“How many big rituals requiring the use of a pre-built summoning circle of solid gold and an incredibly powerful sorcerer’s blood can there be?” Minato asks, inordinately cheerful. He splashes right through a stream, but Kakashi hops over it, because his shoes have suffered enough today.

“If they _are_ here, I can't feel any magic,” he says, not quite a complaint but certainly close.

Minato hums thoughtfully, scanning the trees ahead of them. “Neither can I,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean anything, really. They could be somewhere else, or they could be here and good at hiding.”

Kakashi doesn’t like either option, really. He would have much preferred to find Obito lost in the woods, or maybe out cold in a ditch. Unlikely, but better than Orochimaru’s sly _why yes I did hear of something interesting, maybe they were going to summon an Elder God? Or perhaps it was a Calamity from a Past Age, I can't quite recall_.

He probably would have been able to recall if Minato had asked him to lunch, Kakashi thinks, maybe a touch sourly.

“I feel like we should let ANBU handle this,” he offers, even though he already knows it’s a lost cause.

“I'm pretty sure Orochimaru wouldn't be asking _them_ out on a date,” Minato says, desert-dry. “And I wouldn’t personally want to steer them in his direction, but maybe that’s just me.”

Explaining to the local magical restriction enforcement squad how they got the information on the summoning from an illegal warlock who’s possibly bound to a goddess of death and destruction is _not_ a conversation Kakashi wants to have, so he doesn’t try to argue. Just rolls his eyes a little, winding his way between scattered boulders and—

Minato hauls him back by the collar, dragging him behind the cover of the stone and down to one knee. “Shh,” he hisses, and the blue of his eyes flickers like the heart of a flame, bleeding out into the space around them. Sigils trace themselves into the air, held close and humming with power, and Minato takes a breath. “You remember shielding?” he asks.

Not as well as attacking, but then, Kakashi tends to like shattering things with lightning more the just hardening swathes of air. Minato despairs of his attachment to the theatrical. “Sure,” he says mildly. “Why am I going to need it, again?”

Minato flashes him the bright, reassuring smile that means he’s about to do something stupid. “Because there's a barrier in front of us, and I'm pretty sure the ritual is happening on the other side.”

“In the middle of the _day_?” Kakashi demands, vaguely scandalized. He might not know a lot about rituals like this, but his sense of drama says they should only happen at night, preferably under a blood moon or something.

Minato favors him with an exasperated look. “Get Kushina's apprentice out, all right? I’ll handle the witch.”

“All right,” Kakashi agrees blandly, and Minato is gone in a whirl of gold-edged sigils, slamming through what looks like empty air but shatters like thin glass. On the other side of the barrier, a man whirls, red eyes startled and then furious, hands already coming up.

Minato's magic crashes into his with a sound that reverberates through the forest, and Kakashi doesn’t waste any time. He lunges around the far edge of the boulders, takes half a second to scan the area and then moves. The heavy golden ring is half-buried in the forest floor, glowing with an ominous red light, but circles are either meant to keep things in or out, not both, and this one is so heavy on containment that it might as well be a vault. Weak from the outside, though, and Kakashi twists a hand around, calling up a spark. It multiplies, _sings_ , and lightning crackles into existence with a bone-rattling hum and the smell of ozone.

“Down!” Kakashi warns sharply, and inside the circle the battered figure lunges to the side, slides right off the altar with a rattle of chains half a second before the lightning crashes into the ring.

The gold flickers, glows, shivers. Then, in a rush, it liquifies, bursting out of its solid form and whirling up. Minato's magic snatches it, drags it down, and Minato sweeps it in between himself and the witch, hardens it instantly. The witch’s red magic reflects off of it with a crash, flying back at him, and the man hisses, dodging sideways.

Minato meets him, edged with golden light, eyes hard, expression set. Punches the man right in the face, throws him over his hip, sends the molten gold streaking down in a wave that he witch only just avoids in time. Crimson magic that feels like pure hunger rises, grasping, devouring, and—

“Off, get them _off_ ,” Obito rasps as Kakashi slides to his knees next to him. He’s tearing at his chains, expression purely desperate, and one side of his face looks like it’s been partially crushed, twisted scars that are already healing stretched across his skin. There's enough blood to show that they're fresh, no matter how much Obito has been able to fix himself, though, and Kakashi has to swallow his nausea at the thought of what the witch must have done to cause them.

“Hold still,” he orders, and gets a hand on the chains. Like the circle, they're meant to contain from within, not without, and a moment of concentration and a single sigil and they shatter into dust.

“Thank _fuck_ ,” Obito gasps, then leans in, grabs Kakashi by the ears, and kisses him hard.

Kakashi has absolutely no idea what to do with this.

He doesn’t have time to process it, either. Before he can even start to comprehend what’s happening, Obito is pulling away, blood smeared across his lip. _Kakashi’s_ blood, and his eyes are glowing crimson and black. There's a shadow of _something_ in his face, and he grips Kakashi’s face and says, “Help me send it back.”

 _Oh_ , Kakashi thinks, and then _Oh!_ as power sparks along his spine. A blood bonding, mixing their power, and that shadow is something _else_ , something that’s slithered its way into Obito and isn’t about to leave.

“Gladly,” he says, and drags Obito forward, kisses him with teeth and the taste of lightning on his tongue, tangled up with the blood on Obito's. There's a sound of desperate relief against his mouth, and Obito closes his eyes, magic rising.

“No!” the witch snarls, whirling in a cloud of wild black hair and furious power. “No, that power is _mine_!”

Minato slams into him from behind, wrestles him down to the ground with an arm around his throat. “Hurry, Kakashi!” he calls, but Kakashi can hardly spare a thought for him.

Another kiss, and Kakashi gets his hands on Obito's nape, the small of his back. Feeds his power into Obito, following the twist of blood-dark madness that tastes nothing like _him_ , and burns it out with the fire of a raging storm. Obito cries out, but Kakashi doesn’t relent, tangles their magic together and scorches Obito's soul clean of whatever is possessing him in a flare of fire and magic that shakes them both to the bone.

With a ragged sound of relief, Obito collapses against him, chest heaving, eyes closed. He’s shaking, just a little, and Kakashi holds him up, eases his magic away until Obito's slides back in to fill the empty places. It’s the most haphazard, slapdash working Kakashi’s ever been a part of, but it _worked_.

Lifting his head, he looks automatically for Minato, finds him climbing to his feet with the witch a gold-wrapped mummy at his feet. Not dead, probably, Kakashi thinks, though likely more so that Minato doesn’t have to deal with a corpse than any sort of mercy. Minato's scary like that.

“Okay?” he asks.

“I think I should be asking you that,” Minato laughs, coming over. He casts a wary eye over the altar, then crouches down, gently laying a finger against Obito's blood-streaked throat. “Kushina’s been looking for you,” he says kindly.

Obito lets out a shaky breath. “She’s going to kick my ass for getting kidnapped,” he mutters.

Kakashi snorts, because that’s entirely true. “She’ll probably give you a day or two to recover first,” he points out, and then cocks an eyebrow at his teacher. “The asshole?”

Minato's smile is cheerfully wicked. “He made a mistake in his ritual, obviously. Obito found it and got out, then beat him and knocked him out with a sleep spell. We were never here.”

Obito makes a sound of agreement. “Get me a phone and I’ll call it in,” he agrees, forehead still pressed to Kakashi’s shoulder, smearing blood into his shirt, and Kakashi frowns a little.

“Kushina will be the first one here,” Minato tells him gently, and when Kakashi eyes him warily he smiles a little. “We can't be seen here, Kakashi. Too many questions.”

Kakashi doesn’t want to leave, but Minato is right. He opens his mouth—

“Just—stay until they get here. Please?” Obito asks, raw and touched with something like bone-deep terror, and Kakashi curls a hand around the nape of his neck and holds him close. Looks up at Minato, watching with soft eyes, and lets his expression ask the question for him.

“Of course,” Minato agrees, and the smile he turns on Kakashi is proud and fond in equal measure.

It feels warm. Kakashi ducks his head, doesn’t meet Minato's gaze for more than a moment, but…he’s smiling too. Just a little.


End file.
